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ofthehands · 3 months

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Talk To Me

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

Disability Fan Week, Day 1- Alternate Communication

A short, roughly 4,000 word genfic about the Sawyers learning the different way the youngest member of their clan gets things across. And the difficulties along the way. Warnings for general Sawyer-isms, and some fairly canon-typical/ time-period typical ableism.

Ever since he was born, everybody knew little brother was going to be somethin’ different. He was the forth Sawyer boy, and the only one to be born a normal-looking weight, despite arriving a week or two early. Apparently, the new boy was just absolutely huge. Drayton thought that meant he would be healthy- maybe he got good, strong genes from whoever the hell his daddy was.

But only three months after he was born, Mama up and left, blaming it on her boys, and especially little brother, and how damn sick they were.

Showed Drayton how little he knew.

And so, he was left alone, with three little boys to look after. A grown man, sure, but a grown man with no idea how to take care of a baby or raise up a child. Especially not three damn children, who needed as much help as he quickly realized his little brothers did. But soon he would find he was even less prepared to help the littlest one along. That boy was somethin’ else indeed.

Drayton wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to take a baby to talk, but five damn years was way too long, and it was obvious. Little brother- or Bubba, as the boys had taken to calling him- had never spoke a word in all that time. He would babble, and make sounds, and point at things, and Drayton could tell he understood. But he just wouldn’t speak. Drayton tried every damn thing- he talked to him all the time and let the twins talk his little ears off too. He read to them- as well as he could- each night. It was usually the same book over and over, or a receipt book from that day, or an instruction manual of some kind, but he didn’t think being unable to afford new books should make it impossible to teach him to talk- all the damn twins ever did was talk, and they didn’t even get to hear the instruction manual. Bubba should be able to talk.

So Drayton figured maybe he just wasn’t willing. Maybe he was just being hard headed. So he tried punishing him, and threatening him, but that didn’t work a lick. The boy babbled then- tried his damndest to make some noise, just to keep Drayton from givin’ him the belt. But he never spoke a single damn coherent word. Drayton tried bribery. Which felt stupid, but he was desperate for it to work. Even got the twins in on it, promising the three of them a little reward for just one word.

But he still didn’t talk.

It frustrated the hell out of Drayton. He worried, of course, that there was something wrong with his little brother, and worried he was doing something wrong himself. That the twins could talk because Mama was still around then- because she did it right, and he was too damn stupid to figure it out.

Like she always used to say he was.

Bubba turned six wordlessly. And Drayton stopped trying. Decided either the boy was too stupid to learn or he was too stupid to teach him. And either damn way that he had more important things to do.

Little Bubba didn’t talk. But Nubbins didn’t really care. He still thought his littlest brother was fun to play with, even if he didn’t ever say nothing. Their old man though, he didn’t like none of that. And Nubbins could tell. Usually he didn’t care about what that old man did and didn’t like. But he could tell this was upsetting Bubba too. And for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, he didn’t want baby brother upset. So even when Cook stopped messing with baby brother, gived up on him, Nubbins kept trying. Usually, most days, he got Bobby in on it too- the both of them talkin’ and talkin’ to little Bubba, teachin’ him all sorts of words- even the fun ones like swear words, though Nubbins always whispered those ones real quiet. But Bubba didn’t seem to pick up on ‘em. The only words he really said was his name, but it still weren’t quite the way everybody else said it. Sort of “Buh-Buh.” But it was close. They had almost gotten him to say Bobby’s name- Bubba was good at sayin’ B’s. But he never quite got it all the way. It just didn’t sound quite right. But Nubbins was determined. He was going to get his little brother to say just one undeniable word. So Cook would stop bein’ all mad at little Bubba. So maybe things could be more nice-like again.

That particular mornin’, Cook had gone off to work, and Nubbins and Bobby were left to look after Bubba again. Bobby was feelin’ bad- sick in his own way- and curled up in bed and wouldn’t get out, even when Nubbins poked him and prodded him and caught a scorpion to put in bed with him. Eventually, though he was frustrated by his twin’s laziness, he gave up with a huff, and went downstairs to mess with Bubba alone.

“H-hey Bubba!” Nubbins said, falling in a heap next to where his little brother was playing with some bones and bird feathers. “W-what are you up to?” Bubba looked up, and around. He seemed confused for a moment. He made his noises again for a second, then one that almost sounded right-

“Bah? Bah-Buh?”

“Yeah. Bubba. That’s your name,” Nubbins said with a sigh. Bubba clenched his little fists and shook them all around, his whole body with them, like he was angry. Nubbins just didn’t get it. Clearly he knew words. So why didn’t he say ‘em? Bubba then unclenched one of his little fists, and did something odd. He stuck out two of his little fingers, and pressed them into his cheek, on the left side. Then he brought them together, and down his face, ending in a little fist to the side of his chin. Nubbins thought it was just one of those fun hand things he did, and he flapped his hands a little too. Then, with a furrowed little brow, Bubba did it again, just the same. Nubbins figured it had to mean something. He watched Bubba do it a third time, then he mimicked the motion on himself. Which was when he realized the pattern Bubba made matched Bobby’s birthmark. Bah-Buh.

“B-bobby!?” Nubbins exclaimed. He repeated the motion. “That means Bobby?” Bubba jumped up a little and wiggled excitedly. It did! It wasn’t a coincidence! It really did! “Bubba- can- can you do me? What’s me? Nubbins?” Bubba took the pointer finger of his right hand this time, and put it just under his right eye, before folding it, holding the ball of his fist at the side of his face, where Nubbins’ birthmark ended. Nubbins and Bubba both jumped up and down with joy. “Whu-what about Grandpa! Do Grandpa!” Bubba traced the lines of his face- like the deep wrinkles Grandpa had around his mouth. “Oh uh- uh- What about Cook?” Bubba made a sweeping gesture with his hand, like Cook did when he hit one of them upside the head. Nubbins laughed at that. “Oh- Oh- W-wait a minute! I gotta get Bobby! I gotta go show Bobby! I- I come right back!” Nubbins ran up the stairs to harass his twin with glee. Bubba could talk! Bubba was talking! He was just talking with his hands. Which meant Cook was wrong- Bubba wasn’t stupid. He was smart! Really, really smart. Nubbins never woulda thought of talkin’ with his hands like that. “Bobby! Bobby! Get up! Get up!”

“I-I don’t wanna,” he muttered. “I-I feel like shit-”

“Bubba’s talkin’!”

“Whu- really? He’s talkin’?” Bobby looked like that word he said they weren’t supposed to say, as he sat up, black hair in a mess and snot dripping down his face.

“Yuh-huh! Come lookit!” Bobby valiantly dragged himself out of bed, and downstairs to see little Bubba talk. It took him a minute to understand the hand-words too, but once he did he was just as excited as Nubbins, only a little sleepier. They spent the whole day trying to understand Bubba’s new words, and talking with him, in a mixture of the way they spoke and he did, their excitement only building. Nubbins couldn’t wait to show big brother what he’d learned.

Drayton got home dead tired. He hadn’t had time for lunch that day, hadn’t had time for any damn thing. His whole body hurt. Which was why he was pissed off before he even stepped through the door. And why he quickly got more pissed off as he heard his little brothers giggling, undoubtedly up to no good. Then-

“Cook’s home! Cook’s home!” Drayton grimaced. They never got that excited when he came home. Something had to be wrong. The twins ran at him quick, Bobby following along a little slow, wrapped up in a blanket.

“What the hell has gotten into you-”

“Cook! Cook! Lookit! Come Lookit! Bubba’s talkin’!” Nubbins said. Drayton felt a bolt of energy go through him- energy he really didn’t think he had.

“Talkin’? What’d he say? What happened?”

“I- I came downstairs, tryin’ to talk with him, but Bobby was sick in bed- and- and Bubba said his name! He asked about Bobby! Then he said m-my name, and- and Grandpa- and yours! He says all kinds of things!” Drayton felt a surge of relief, so overwhelming he could’ve cried. He didn’t, of course, the boys needed a strong role model, not some damn sissy, but the feeling was certainly there. “Come lookit!”

“Okay, okay,” Drayton said, letting the twins tug him by his shirt sleeves. They took him to the living room, where Bubba was sitting on the floor, a big grin on his face. Drayton went quickly to his little brother. Bubba reached for him when he came in, and he hefted the large six-year-old up, and into his lap as he sat on the couch. “Your brothers told me you been sayin’ a lot today, Bubba.” Bubba nodded. That gave Drayton even more hope- he had seen Bubba sort of nod, or at least he thought he had, but this time it was clear. Confident. “S-show me, Bubba,” Drayton said. “Say- say anything. Talk to me.” Bubba paused a moment, thinking. That was alright. Drayton had waited six years already- another few seconds wouldn’t hurt. Then, Bubba pointed, with his little right hand, touching Drayton’s chest, before curling it to a fist and pressing it to his own chest, holding it there just a second. Then he didn’t say anything. “What… What was that?”

“Bubba talks with his hands!”

Drayton gave both the twins a spanking for being little rat-faced liars. Bubba cried and hollered during it, but didn’t say anything. He flinched up when Drayton came towards him, but Drayton didn’t punish him any. It wasn’t Bubba’s fault the twins were stupid. Drayton all but accepted at that point his little brother wasn’t ever gonna talk, and he had might as well just give up. Accept that he ruined it. Or that Bubba was ruined to begin with.

He couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Mama knew.

If maybe that was why she left.

The next day the twins were sulking and Bubba was too scared to even let Drayton look at him. Drayton did his best to go to work and ignore the sludge-like guilt that poured over his every waking thought looking at those boys. He had to be tough on them. Nobody else would ever look out for them.

The day at the old gas station was hard. His manager was a pain in the ass. One of these days, he was going to kill that old dickhead and skin him and eat him. But it was not yet that day. So Drayton stood around in the hot sun, dealing with the flow of stupid customers and their various car problems and personality problems, pointedly not thinking about his little brothers.

Until something really strange happened.

It was a woman and her baby. Well, not quite a baby- a child maybe Bubba’s age, five or six- though the little girl was much more confident walking than Bubba was. The husband went in for some barbeque, and the lady and the little girl got out of the car to stretch their legs while Drayton cleaned the windshield and gassed it up. He glanced over at them, mostly just to assess them as meat, when he noticed it.

The little girl paused at the soda machine, and made some kind of gesture- quick, oddly precise movements with her hands. Then the woman spoke back-

“Well I don’t know about that. We’ll have to ask Daddy when he gets back.” Drayton cleaned their windshield off quick and a little sloppy before loping over towards them.

“Uh- Miss- ma’am-” The woman turned.

“Oh uh, is there a problem?”

“No- I- I just uh- what was that you were doin’ there?” he asked. “I- I’m sorry if this is sudden or uh-”

“What I’m doin’? How do you mean?” she looked more confused than fearful, which was always good.

“Your- your little girl, she made- she made those gestures and-”

“Oh! That’s just- sorry, that’s just sign language. Maggie can talk she just- my sister is deaf, and she’s been practicing so she can speak with Auntie Ruth-”

“What’s- What’s ‘sign language’?” Drayton asked. “I- I’m sorry to be botherin’ you with all these questions I just-” He paused. He hated giving people any information, but this time the truth would probably comfort her and get him his answers. “I’ve… I’ve got a boy at home who’s mute. He… He’s never spoke a word and… I don’t think he’s liable to.”

“Oh!” The woman’s eyes lit up. “I’m- I’m sort of surprised you never heard anything about sign language before.”

“Well we’re uh.. Kind of cut off, out here,” Drayton said. “My boy- he- he just started doin’ somethin’ like that on his own, though, somehow.”

“Oh! Home signs,” she said. “That’s- that’s pretty common. I mean, I only ever really heard about that with deaf kids- my sister Ruth did it when she was little, before our parents figured out what what goin’ on and started teachin’ her American Sign Language. I guess it makes sense a kid who don’t talk could do that sort of thing too.” She paused for a moment, glancing down with a look of pure adoration at her own little girl. “It’s crazy what all kids can teach you if you just listen,” she said softly. Drayton chuckled, a hollow, guilty little noise.

“Yeah. ‘Spose so.”

Cook ruined it. Nubbins was certain that Cook ruined it. The rest of that whole entire day Bubba never said not even one word. He barely even babbled, or grunted, or cooed at them. He just sort of sat around, looking sad. Bobby, after his spanking and with his sickness, just ended up back in bed. So it was up to Nubbins to big-brother him all alone. Which wasn’t easy. Nubbins didn’t think quick like Bobby did sometimes. So he didn’t always know how to help. This time was one of those times.

Nubbins slinked up to Bubba, who was messing with feathers and sittin’ on the floor. He tried to figure out how to get Bubba talkin’ again- how to make him understand that Cook was gone and he didn’t have to be scared without sayin’ all that and admittin’ that Cook kind of made him scared too. He watched his brother pick at the feathers and bones for a minute, lining them up in a row, before something clicked in his brain.

“Hey Bubba! You- You wanna do somethin’ fun?” Bubba just looked at him with those big sad baby-cow eyes of his. “Here- lookit!” Nubbins dumped out some string in front of him, and took up some bones, and feathers, and started weaving them together, best he could, till he made a skinny, sort of crooked little dolly. “See! We- we can make little dollies! You like dollies, yeah?” Bubba stretched out his hand and Nubbins passed it over with a smile. Bubba played a minute with it, then Nubbins started making another. Bubba babbled a little, and pointed at the pile of string. “You want me to show you to make one?” Nubbins asked. Bubba nodded, and the both of them smiled.

Nubbins tried to show Bubba how to do it real good, and how to make the little dollies stay together right, and how to make ‘em real pretty, but it was hard to do that and watch Bubba’s hands incase he said anything too, so Bubba’s little dollies weren’t turning out right. They were real pretty, but he had thick little fingers that weren’t so good for the delicate stuff and the weaving like Nubbins’ skinny ones were. Nubbins kept trying to tell him what to do, the same way over and over and maybe a bit fast, and Bubba just couldn’t keep up.

“You got to do it this way!” Nubbins said, showing him again how to weave the arms into the torso. “It ain’t gonna be no good if you don’t do it right!” Bubba snapped at him- making a loud noise and throwing his little dolly down. “Wh- th-that ain’t gonna make it any more good!” Bubba shook his arms, hard, and fussed.

Then the front door was slammed open.

Only one person ever slammed that door. Bubba darted under the couch as quick as he could. It wasn’t a very good hiding spot, since he could barely get under there, but it was better than Nubbins’ spot, which was nowhere.

“Nubbins? Bobby?” Cook called. That was bad. He came into the feather room. “There you are-” He reached down to snatch Nubbins up and he tried to bolt like a wild cat, but Cook seemed ready for him to do just that. “Damnit Nubbins- Come here!” Nubbins thrashed and snapped his teeth at Cook as best he could, but the old man was getting used to picking up the twins when they were trying to scratch and bite him. “Calm down, boy, you ain’t in trouble.”

“I-I-I don’t believe you! You’s just sayin’ that so I won’t wiggle so you can take me somewhere-” Cook hefted Nubbins over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Normally Nubbins thought that was funny, but he knew he was in some kind of trouble.

“C’mon, boy. Up you go.” He carried Nubbins off, up the stairs, and into his and Bobby’s room. He chucked him up and onto Bobby’s bed, wakin’ his poor sick twin up.

“W-whu did I do?” Bobby moaned. Cook shut the door and Nubbins knew this was gonna be bad.

“You two learnt that hand-talkin’ thing with Bubba, right?” Cook said, sitting down on Nubbins’ bed and looking at them- his face so plain he didn’t even look mad somehow.

“Well uh- m-maybe. What’s it to ya?”

“I want you to teach me.”

“What?”

“I want you to teach me Bubba’s words. So I can understand him.”

“B-but you said that it was stupid!”

“Well now I’m sayin’ it ain’t!” Cook snapped. “Show ‘em to me, damnit!”

“W-we won’t get in trouble if we do?” Bobby asked, speaking up for the first time in a while.

“No. You won’t.”

“Show him, Nubs.” Nubbins hesitated, still not wanting to do anything for that mean old man right then. “C’mon, or he’s gonna make me do it,” Bobby moaned. Nubbins sighed.

“Oh… Okay,” he said. “T-this one-” he touched the start of his birthmark, then traced down it and made a fist, resting it at the bottom of his birthmark. “M-means me.” Cook mimicked it.

“Alright. Easy enough.”

“This one is Bobby.” Similar, on the opposite side, starting with two fingers. Cook did that too.

“Makes sense.”

“This is Grandpa.”

“Oh. They’re all just… About how we look?” Cook asked. He cringed a little, hand going up over his mouth, almost instinctively. “God, mine’s about my teeth, ain’t it?”

“Oh uh- t-this one is you,” Nubbins said, miming the backhand swiftly. For some reason Cook seemed more disturbed by that than a jab at his teeth.

“Oh… Is it… Is it that… Mean? When he does it?” Cook asked. “Or just-” he made a sweeping motion, a little too slow and a little too soft.

“N-no- it’s like-” Nubbins flicked his hand like he was swatting at a fly. Or, more likely, since it meant Cook, a brother in the way. “Like that!” Cook mimed it right and Nubbins flinched a little, reflexively. “Y-yeah! That’s right.” Cook looked sadly down at his hand. Weird old man.

“Alright,” he said, softly. “Oh, and uh, what’s this mean? I saw him do this-” Cook poked Nubbins in the chest, then balled his fist and placed it over his heart. The thing he told Cook before he got mad. “What’s that?” Nubbins hesitated. He didn’t want Cook mad at him again. But he couldn’t think of another way out. He tried to be wishy-washy, so at least maybe Cook wouldn’t get so mad.

“I uh- I-I don’t know for sure, but we think it means.. Uh.. ‘I love you’.” Cook hesitated then.

“What?”

“‘I love you’,” Nubbins repeated. Cook’s hand slowly fell to his lap. “Wh-what? Are you gettin’ mad?” Nubbins asked, curling up a little.

“No,” Cook said, standing up all of a sudden. “I ain’t mad.”

Drayton left the twins to whatever the hell they were doing and went downstairs. He saw Bubba dive under the couch- he was too damn big to get his ass under and always got stuck. He needed to make this right. He had to fix it- somehow- someway. He approached as quietly as he could, trying not to spook Bubba into wedging himself further under the couch.

“Bubba?” he said softly. The boy tried to wiggle further under the couch. Goddamnit. “Come on out from there.” He did not. “C’mon, Bubba. Are you stuck?” He put his hands on his brother’s hips, trying to give him a little tug, but that made the boy skitter further- lodging himself as deep as he could. “Dammit, boy!” Drayton was losing the little patience he had quick. He yanked his little brother out from under the couch while Bubba squealed like a piglet. “Don’t do all that! I didn’t hurt you- you’re fine,” he hissed. He pulled Bubba up, and then onto the couch, before sitting down next to him. Bubba curled up like an armadillo for a minute, then slowly but surely uncurled. “Bubba I-” I’m sorry. “I… I get it now.” Bubba perked up just a little. “I… You…” For once Drayton was the one without words. “You…” He tried not to sound too somber as he said it. “You’re different, Bubba. You… You always have been. You ain’t like me and.. You ain’t like your brothers. You’re… Really somethin’ else kid… And that.. That’s alright. You don’t talk like me and the twins do. And you probably ain’t ever gonna. And that’s alright. You don’t have to. I’m… I’m listenin’ now, kid.” Bubba looked up at him, with those big ol’ eyes, curious, maybe hopeful. But Drayton wasn’t sure he believed it yet. He sighed, a little. Then Drayton, stiffly and with a slightly shaky hand, poked Bubba in the chest, before balling up his fist, and pressing it to his own. Bubba squealed again- a happy little noise this time, and burrowed against him. Drayton petted his hair softly, letting the boy rub his face on him like a cat. Drayton tried to just seem happy, in that moment. But deep down he knew he was still woefully underprepared. He didn’t know how the hell he was gonna raise a boy like Bubba, when he had to pick up the most basic of concepts from a stranger at the gas station.

But the Sawyers had always been resourceful. So he guessed he’d just figure it out.

As the years went on, Bubba slowly felt more and more understood. And his older brothers realized Bubba was quite the chatterbox. He talked to them all the time, about a lot of different things, in a lot of different ways. They learned a handful of his home signs and enough about his body language, expressions, and sounds to understand him- even if those outside the family probably never would.

But, Bubba didn’t worry too much about the outside at first. He didn’t need it. The Sawyer property and his family were his whole world. And in his world, he was listened to.

But Bubba also listened. To his brother’s exploits, at work, or causing havoc in Newt. To complaints and curiosities about the neighbors, apparently so very close to them. And to the radio, and the hundreds of lovely voices that poured through it, talking about far away places and interesting people that Bubba sometimes imagined himself meeting.

But for the time being, at least, Bubba didn’t have too strong of an urge to go there and be with them. He was happy on his little farm house, with his family, and his chicken, and his routines. It was a good life. He didn’t yet want more.

But those voices on the radio had him curious about more. About seeing the sights. About meeting those people. Drayton told him often that they wouldn’t like him. Wouldn’t understand him the way other Sawyers did. But Bubba remembered it took his family a long time to understand him too. So he let himself be curious, at least. He wondered about those strange and beautiful cities. He wondered about the people with their strange and beautiful faces. And, of course, as he watched his brothers bicker at the door, heading out into that strange and beautiful world, he wondered if he ever asked for more, if anybody would listen.

#tcmfanevent #tcmdisabilityweek #i did a fair bit of research for this one but i still fear I may have gotten some things wrong/ written them unrealistically :(#Also i wanted bubba to be the main character of his own day but like tbh i struggle a bit to write kids #as you can probably tell by the nubs portions lol #tcm

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